


A Big Old Gordian Knot

by that_one_kid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Allura as a therapist, But only good vibes for my girl, Disclaimer: I am not a therapist, Gen, Literally just Beau getting some much-needed therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_kid/pseuds/that_one_kid
Summary: After the events of tfm's A Reckless Dark Desire, Beau accidentally dares herself into going to therapy and surprises herself by finding it very useful.
Relationships: Beauregard & Yasha
Kudos: 26





	A Big Old Gordian Knot

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reckless Dark Desires](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25183168) by [tfm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm). 



> Trigger warnings for therapy, self-care issues, and mentions of grieving, mind control, violence, and kidnapping
> 
> I loved the Reckless Dark Desires storyline so much, but I worry about my baby monk. Written almost entirely in response to this quote from the original source:
> 
> "The Soul had shrinks that she could talk to, of course, but Beau wasn't even sure where to begin with how she would explain what was going on inside her head. “Hey Doc, since the age of sixteen, I've been using sex as a band-aid to cover up the overwhelming sense of inadequacy and loneliness that I feel as a person, and I think I might have met someone that I really like, only she was a vampire being mind-controlled, and she stabbed and kidnapped me. Plus, I'm having trouble sleeping."
> 
> Yeah, that was a big old Gordian knot that would blunt even the sharpest of swords."
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A THERAPIST. ALL DESCRIPTIONS OF THERAPY ARE SOLELY BASED ON MY OWN EXPERIENCES AND MAY NOT MATCH THE TONE, CONTENT, OR DIALOGUE OF AN ACTUAL PROFESSIONAL!

Beau had always assumed that if she ended up at a Soul-run shrink’s office, it would have been Dairon who forced her to go. It hadn’t been. It hadn’t been anyone, actually. 

It had been Beau, walking into her shared “office” with Yasha, catching the vampire in the middle of crying. Beau, naturally, had shied at the doorway and turned to leave, but Yasha had already noticed her. Instead of swiping at the tears or bolting, she’d just waved at Beau and patted the seat next to her. Beau, feeling sheepish and uncomfortable, sidled over. 

“Are you… okay?” she asked, before kicking herself. Stupid question, since the answer was obvious. Yasha didn’t answer right away, looking like she was actually considering the question. 

“I think I am getting there,” she answered eventually. Beau blinked. “I just got back from an appointment with my therapist,” she said, when Beau remained silent. “We were talking about Molly.” 

“Shit,” Beau said, her eyes drifting almost unconsciously to the chain around Yasha’s neck. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, it was… good. I told her about the time he taught me to make pancakes.” Yasha chuckled, low and wet. “He called me a fire hazard.” Beau snorted. That, she could see. 

“But,” Beau hesitated to even bring it up, but she’d never had much luck with filtering her thoughts. “You were crying?” 

“I haven’t talked about him in a long time,” Yasha explained. “I feel relieved.” She made a face. “It’s hard to explain. Like putting down a heavy thing you’ve been carrying for a long time. You know you’ll have to pick it up again, but then you do, and it’s not as awful as you remembered.” It was the most words Beau had heard her string together in… ever?

“Like taking your bra off at the end of a long day,” Beau agreed, and Yasha gave her an inscrutable look but let the deflection pass. She did, now, wipe the tears from her face and reach for a manila folder. 

“So, did you find out where they’re based?”

~ ~ ~

The look Yasha had given her had been pity, Beau had realized belatedly. Furious, she’d stormed up into the Cobalt Soul’s health department before really thinking anything beyond 'I could go to therapy if I wanted,' and now she was petulantly staring at a closed office door. Probably she needed an appointment, or something. The sign on the door read Dr. Vysoren. 

“Hello,” a woman said from the hallway behind Beau.

“Fuck,” she said, spinning around and then trying to look like she hadn’t just jumped out of her skin. The woman smiled. She was taller than Beau, pale-skinned and with a complicated-looking braid draped over her shoulder.

“I’m Dr. Vysoren,” she said, gesturing at the door. “Did you want to talk?” 

“No,” Beau said immediately. The woman tilted her head, staying quiet for a minute. “Yes,” Beau admitted, when it became clear that she was waiting for an explanation. “But I don’t have an appointment or anything, so,” 

“That’s fine,” Dr. Vysoren said, walking past and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and held it open. “I have the next several hours free, if that works for you. Or we could set up an appointment, if you'd prefer.” Beau was absolutely not terrified. She was almost killed on a regular basis for work, so it would be ridiculous to fear this soft-spoken lady and her irritatingly nice-looking office. There were soft armchairs inside, and a yellow lamp. Beau strode through the doorway, way too aggressively. Once inside, she hesitated, looking at the chairs. 

“Please have a seat wherever,” Dr. Vysoren said, opening a drawer in a dresser and pulling out a small notebook. She set it on the table, closed, and waited while Beau lowered herself gingerly into one of the seats. She took a seat across from her.

“As I mentioned before, I’m Dr. Vysoren,” the woman said. “But please feel free to call me Allura.” 

“I’m Beau,” Beau said, which seemed incomplete. “Beauregard. But call me Beau.” 

“All right, Beau,” she said agreeably. “So,” she continued, just before Beau could start panicking about how to start. “What brings you to my office today?” Beau felt all the tension that had been building up snap, and the words just poured out. 

“Since the age of sixteen, I've been using sex as a band-aid to cover up the overwhelming sense of inadequacy and loneliness that I feel as a person, and I think I might have met someone that I really like, only she was a vampire being mind-controlled, and she stabbed and kidnapped me. Plus, I'm having trouble sleeping.” 

As soon as she finished speaking, she felt her face grow red and she balled her hands into fists, staring intently at the floor. 

“Okay,” Allura said. Beau’s gaze snapped back up to meet her eyes. She was looking at Beau with a level expression, without the shock or… whatever she’d been expecting. “I think I can help you with a lot of those things. Is there anything in particular that you are working toward?” Beau’s first answer had been rehearsed, sort of, in that she’d been repeating it over and over in her head as she stared at the office door. She hadn’t really thought this far ahead. 

“I guess… sleeping more than four hours a night?” Beau offered. Allura nodded at her. She still hadn’t picked up her notebook. 

“I think that’s a great start,” she said, and Beau blinked. 

“You aren’t going to ask about…” she waved her hands to indicate the first part of what she’d blurted out. 

“We’ll have time to get to whatever you’d like to discuss,” Allura said. “Would you prefer to discuss those experiences now?”

“No,” Beau said instantly. “Gods no,” Allura smiled, and Beau relaxed a tiny bit into the chair. 

“All right, then,” she said. “We can get there. Is this your first time coming to therapy?” Beau jerked her head in a nod. 

“That’s a big first step,” Allura said, and nodded at her in a way that made Beau sit up a little straighter, somehow. “It was very brave of you to come here. I know the Soul’s psychology department doesn’t always have the greatest reputation among the operatives, but I hope I’ll be able to provide you with some tools to help you achieve what you’d like to, as well as a listening ear and an open mind.” It should have been cheesy, Beau knew. But she felt something shifting traitorously in her chest, like a vise clamped around her lungs was releasing just an infinitesimal amount. To her horror, tears welled up in her eyes and she had to blink them away. 

“Cool,” she said. 

“I have some ideas for some things you can try to improve your sleep,” Allura continued, mercifully not pointing out Beau’s shining eyes. She opened another drawer and handed Beau an honest-to-Gods worksheet. At a quick glance, it looked like it contained some kind of centering exercises and little log entries. “It’s nothing you have to do, of course, but you might try it for a few nights and see if it helps at all. Do you want to tell me about what is keeping you from getting sleep?” 

And just like that, the flood gates were opened. Beau talked to Allura for the next two hours, and scheduled a follow-up when she asked, gently, if Beau would like to come back. She scheduled it for the next weekend. Then she called Yasha, because she was crying too hard to drive herself home. Yasha, naturally, didn’t ask any questions. When she’d gotten Beau back to the apartment above their little office, Beau stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

“Relief,” she said, and sniffled. “Don’t worry.” Yasha gave her a small, small, smile full of so much pride Beau nearly dropped unconscious on the spot. 

“Like taking your bra off,” Yasha intoned seriously, and Beau laughed so hard that she thought she might have cracked a rib. 

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to tfm for providing the source material. Hope I didn't mess up your characterizations of anyone!! :)


End file.
